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It doesn’t come wrapped
In a beautiful bow-tied box
The gift was shed with blood and tears
When killed upon the cross
It doesn’t come promoted with a television ad
Or the promises of riches, many believe it should
Instead it come with a crown of thorns placed upon his head
Just as God promised it would
It doesn’t come voiced in empty promises
Of peace or of fame
Instead it was bought
By one’s own blood and shame
Instead the gift comes wrapped in hope
A dark and blood stained cross
When one trusts to look upon
One will see that Christ is gone
The gift is wrapped eternally in faith
An open grave appears
For when one will look
No more sorrow, no more tears
Our lives were paid
With the death of Christ
And his opened grave
For when one looks with eyes of faith
And calls upon the name of grace
In his death and life we share
Knowing we will not find him there
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